


I Too Have A Maiden's Heart

by Maybethings



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Drabble Collection, F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, First Kiss, Gen, Guro, References to Suicide, Suicide, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 19:18:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 8,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maybethings/pseuds/Maybethings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles centred around Sakura, Aoi, their relationship, and the sometimes maybe tricky business of being a girl. (spoilers for DR)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Maiden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakura might not be as eager to discard all feminine things as she first thought.

"I took a vow before entering Hope's Peak to become the strongest person on Earth," Sakura says solemnly,  "And in that instant also I swore to put aside all womanly things."

"Hmm." Asahina tilts her head, swinging one foot lazily back and forth in the air. She's lying on her stomach, chin in her hands as she watches Sakura undress for bed. The overlarge T-shirt she sleeps in is printed with a rainbow assortment of donuts, and that makes something inside her smile. "I find that a little hard to believe."

"Oh?"

"You didn't put aside ALL those things." She pushes herself smartly upward, taking Sakura's hand to lead her to the bed. "Your hair, for instance."

"...What of it?"

" Doesn't it get in the way when you fight? You don't tie it up, right?"

"No." She scratches the sudden itch at the base of her neck. "My opponents see it as a weakness. But they never get the chance to catch hold."

"You  _could_ cut it short." Her smile is as bright and quick as a dagger, and several times more welcome. "It would be easier."

"I am accustomed to it this way." Damn. Why does she sound so righteously  _defiant_  about it? Asahina just laughs and picks up the hairbrush, running it through the wild tangle of her locks. It feels good, and Sakura lets her continue her ministrations: a hundred long, firm strokes and then some.

"Sakura-chan, does that feel good?" It  _does._ So do the lithe, strong swimmer's arms that embrace her shoulders. She must have done something right in a past life to deserve this, these moments, only—

"Asahina."

"Yeah?"

"Please do not start braiding my hair."

" _Spoilspoooort._ "


	2. Cherry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakura's name has its own meaning. Or maybe not.

She is named after the cherry blossom, or so her parents once said—which is odd, because she is not a spring baby. (Neither do they have anything to do with her conception, unless hers was a premature birth. The Ogre can count just like anyone else.)

“So does your name have any other meaning?” Asahina asks, elbows on the dining table and sandwich crumbs dusting her wrists.

“I am uncertain.” Sakura chews contemplatively on her riceball. “Though had I been born a boy, I am quite certain my name would be Yamato instead.”

“A symbol of Japan, huh...y’know, I think it suits Sakura-chan real well!”

That gets a chuckle out of her. “I am glad it amuses you, Asahina. Perhaps it was their hope that a daughter should bloom like the flower they named her after.”

“Hey.” Asahina reaches out, pats the back of Sakura’s hand excitedly with sticky fingers. “You know what we should do, when we get out of here? My middle school had a HUGE cherry tree. I’m going to take you there and we can see it in bloom. Okay?”

She nods, if only to see that smile light her face up like the spring sun. “Okay.”

It takes a while before Asahina really remembers, but she does: cherry blossoms don’t last. They bloom and scatter, a little pink cup of petals shredded on the cruel winds. But in those fleeting moments, they bloom with all their soul, and are loved with a single heart. When spring brings their return, year after year, their perfume in the air is a memory deeper than bone and blood.

In her heart, a cherry tree is always in bloom, its petals never to fade or die.


	3. Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making friends is easy. Keeping them is a different story.

When you're Asahina Aoi, it's not very hard to make friends. It is, however, difficult to keep them. When Tanaka wants to go get her nails done, you have extra swim practice. Hasegawa's sleepover is the day before the national meet. By the time you want to invite everyone out for donuts, there's nobody  _to_  invite.

Nothing to do but swim faster, run harder, spike a volleyball so hard it nearly breaks someone's nose.

So you don't dare harbour too much hope when you enter Hope's Peak Academy. Broken hopes makes you emotional, which makes you eat too many donuts and bowls of tonkatsu, which go straight to your middle. You resolve to be friendly, but you don't expect to make True Friends like most girls your age seem to be able to. (Hell, you don't even have a boyfriend yet. This worries you somewhat.)

That's before you pass the gymnasium on the way to the school pool and you see the huge girl. REALLY huge, with muscles the size of small dolphins. She's grappling three upperclassmen at once and chucking them around like sacks of rice. Her hair is wild. Her icy eyes gleam with determination you have never seen in anyone else. Her face is possibly the scariest thing you've ever seen.

She is  _beyond_ cool, and you're left transfixed, gaping, until the fight is over. The seniors leave the gym, grumbling and sweaty and comparing battle scars, and they wash over you like a great white wave. You let them.

The girl turns to look at you. Up close, you don't find her face scary at all. Grinning for no good reason, you raise one arm and wave at her with all your might.

* * *

"It's so strange, Sakura-chan." It slips out so casually, so easily, but Asahina's familiarity doesn't seem strange at all. "I mean, all of this, this murder stuff, and Monobear...it's only just begun, but I feel like I know you really well already."

"I too feel the same way." Sakura looks down at the trim little girl walking shoulder-to-shoulder with her, earnest and unshaken despite the strange events that have gripped them all. Determined to make the best of things. "It is good. We may each consider ourselves to have one friend here, at least."

When they part in front of their rooms, Asahina grins, and waves good night like her arm will detach. After only a beat, Sakura waves back.


	4. Workout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Asahina can't sleep, she works out.

She hits the pool's far wall, turns and powers back. Hits the wall. Turns. Forward. Backward. She does this over and over and over, without flagging or failing. There is as much strength in her as Sakura's own considerable frame, and she watches wordlessly.

"Are you not finished yet?" she says when Asahina comes up for air.

"Nope," she gasps, and surges away, leaving chlorine-scented froth in her wake. It's like something is chasing her, and she cannot rest until she is satisfied she can outrun it.

She surrenders at last, clambering out of the pool as wobbly as a newborn lamb. Her hair tie has snapped and her hair hangs down wetly over her face, making her look even more like a drowned spirit. She's out of breath and her legs wobble and her eyes are unfocused, but they are utterly, absolutely satisfied.

"Too nervous to sleep," she says rather uselessly as Sakura throws her a clean towel. That alone nearly tips her off balance. She notices her nailbeds have gone an odd shade of blue, but it's a faraway thought, like she's scrutinizing someone else's hands. "How many laps did I manage?"

"I was not keeping count." It's a lie. "Here, drink this. Slowly."

"Your protein coffee? You're sure?"

"I prepared enough for both of us. You have no cause for concern."

Asahina sits beside Sakura and sips, conscious on not getting swimsuit drip on her friend and concentrating on the sting of heat against her palms. It's not donuts, but it's still pretty good coffee. Slowly the colour comes back to her cheeks, and the hunted look disappears from her eyes.

"Do you feel more at ease now, Asahina?"

"Yeah. Thank you, Sakura-chan." She takes a final gulp of her drink, smacking her lips a little ostentatiously. "Best cooldown ever."


	5. Nails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oogami Sakura does not do nail polish.

"I refuse, Asahina."

"Aw, come on," the girl wheedles. "It'll be fun, painting your nails!" The bottle of iridescent pink polish was a surprise win from the Monomono Machine, and while Asahina has never done her nails before she obviously wants to try. "Don't you want to look a little prettier?"

"No," Sakura repeats herself, a little acidly. "I have no interest in these girlish things."

"What's wrong with 'girlish'?!" huffs Asahina.

"My goal is to become the strongest person on Earth. These trivialities play no part in the equation."

If only, people say, if only Oogami-san was a little prettier, a little more graceful, went back to what she was before instead of an  _ogre_ _..._ well. She wants no part of that conversation, or those people.  _'Pretty'_  does not keep its promises. She is all that she is and that is final.

"Oh, fine, if you say so." Sakura is strongly tempted to snap back  _I do._ Asahina's pout is the most adorable thing, truly, but she has crossed a line. "I'll just do my own, then. You don't mind?"

"I do not mind. Do as you wish."

She watches from her bed as her friend maneuvers the fiddly brush across her nails, carefully laying down a coat of pink that is surprisingly vivid straight out of the bottle. Asahina's taking it very seriously, eyes wide and focused, gently biting her lower lip as she concentrates. When Sakura's eyelids become heavy and close, she's still going, humming an old song under her breath.

Sakura wakes to find her friend has curled up in her bed, nestled snugly against her. Asahina is studying her nails, the square, sensible things that take no lacquer or tint. The polish on her own is smudged from impatience and clumsiness, and her fingertips have glittery smears of pink on them, but…they  _do_  look cute. She says so, and receives a sleepy, somewhat apologetic smile in response.

“Yours are beautiful too,” she says simply. “Even just like this.”


	6. Purse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asahina has things in her purse she'd rather not show people.

Asahina gingerly peels off her right shoe, wiggling her toes. There's a puffy red blister on the ball of her foot. "Hey, Sakura-chan, can you get my purse off the table? I have some plasters in there."

"Here." Sakura reaches for the little blue wallet, the same brand as her green sneakers. As she does, something small and flat flutters out of the folds. Asahina blanches and dives for it with a shrill screech, toppling straight off the bed and cursing roundly.

Thoroughly confused, Sakura helps her up. "Are you all right?"

"Ow ow  _ow_ \--I mean, yes, yes, perfectly fine!" She swiftly snatches up the piece of paper, hiding it behind her back. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You fell out of bed onto your chin. What are you hiding?" It's ironic that _she's_ the one asking that, but stranger things have happened in recent memory. (Being locked in a school with an exploding bear and forced into a 'mutual killing lifestyle', for starters.)

"It's...um..." She blushes as red as her jumper. "If I show you, promise not to tell anyone?"

"I will keep this a secret if you wish it," Sakura replies solemnly.

"Okay. I trust you." Asahina takes a few deliberate, deep breaths, then blurts out the sordid truth. "It'sapictureofmyfamily."

"...Your family."

She nods rapidly, her shoulders sagging with relief. "Yeah. I'll show you." She sits down on the bed, one shoe still on. Sakura slips her hand underneath hers to steady it. The tiny frame is full to bursting, and all of them have the same open, carefree grin that she knows well. "Those are my parents. That one's me, of course. That's Akio.  _That's_  Natsuo. The small one is Ayame. And that's our dog Ichi. We took this last summer."

"A fine picture. You greatly resemble your mother." Sakura frowns. "Why should you want to keep this a secret?"

"W-well, who keeps a picture of their whole darn family in their purse? But they've always supported me. I'm here because of...I'm here  _for_ them, too." Her face falls and she rubs her eyes. It's sometimes difficult to remember that for all the cheer and spirit, the swimmer has her own shadows to deal with. "I really miss them," she says, her voice less  _Asahina_  and more  _Aoi_.

"You are enduring for their sake also." Sakura hugs her one-armed, good and strong. "I am certain that wherever they are, they are fine. And waiting for you to come home to them."

Asahina wraps her hands around that massive forearm, pressing it closer to her chest. "We're going to go home, aren't we, Sakura-chan? Everyone's going to make it home."

Sakura bows her head, thinking of her father, her grandparents, Kenichirou and her scarf wrapped around his skinny arm. "I have not the slightest doubt."


	7. Bride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We should be not married together."

Asahina oh-so-gingerly holds the stray copy of  _Before The Sea's Scent Fades_ between her fingers, like it's a rather moldy donut. "Why did I read this, again?"

"Your motivation was to understand Fukawa, if I am not mistaken."

"Stupid motivation. I don't wanna get married so young, like the girl in here. Don't tell her I said that though, she'll probably scissor me dead."

Sakura remembers a picture she was once shown, six people and a dog squashed together and laughing. "Your parents were trothed at a young age, were they not?"

"Yeah, and they both wanted that. Settle down, raise a family. But that's not for me!" Asahina drops the book and slaps her hand down on the table for emphasis. "There are so many things I want to do before that! Climb mountains, eat donuts, win an Olympic gold medal! Heck,  _twenty_  gold medals!" As far as Sakura knows there are only seventeen female Olympic swimming events, but she holds her tongue. "And then, well...maybe. We'll see. Y-you don't think it's weird that I want these kind of things, do you?"

"No. It all does sound like something you would say, Asahina." The urge to pat her on the shoulder is almost irresistible. It seems she takes a perverse pleasure in swimming against the tide. "I too have much I wish to achieve before becoming someone's bride...I must become a stronger person, and fulfil the promises I have made before. Perhaps until that day, we should be not married together."

That makes Asahina laugh like a thousand bells, and  _that_  makes Sakura smile.


	8. Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not the moon she knows, but it's the moon they have.

Night and day don’t exist in Hope’s Peak, except by Monobear’s decree. All the windows are bolted over with steel sheets (for what reason, Sakura can’t say).

Except, that is, at one place.

She wakes early enough for training that the moon is still in the sky, and clearly visible from the cafeteria. While they can’t venture outside, the sight of it is enough: a pale, thin round of light that shines weakly through the trees. This is not the moon Sakura is used to; it is just a shadow of what she knows, not half as large or bright.

One day Asahina wakes up early enough to join her, and it’s like she’s been given a glimpse into heaven itself.

“It’s real,” she says, her voice almost a sob. “I mean—I thought Monobear had shot us into space or something for a while there. It’s real. It’s our moon.”

 _Our moon._ It has an all-encompassing note to it, turning the pale and distant thing into a fellow prisoner, one who watches in empathy. Their moon it is, then, and for that moment it belongs to nobody else.


	9. Ribbon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thin tie is a flag and signal.

Every morning Sakura tightens her sarashi afresh, puts on her uniform and makes a perfect, tight knot in her scarlet tie. It’s her declaration to the world that today is going to be business as usual. Nothing will shake her from the tasks she has set herself.

It’s a flag. It’s a signal. It’s also apparently an invitation for Asahina to pull on it one day when she seeks attention. The knot is tighter than she’d thought—Sakura’s shocked face comes down with it and they knock foreheads.

When the stars have faded from their eyes, there’s not much else to do but laugh, bruised skulls bumping gently together again. It becomes their flag and signal, a touch of comfort in their darkest days.


	10. Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asahina can't remember the words.

Asahina sings in the shower at night, in an effort to calm herself before bed. Usually it’s whatever modern pop ballad she has on her mind; anything by Noontime Kodomo is a favourite. But one night, she ends up singing an old folk song instead.

“ _Sakura, sakura,_  
 _In the springtime, in the sky  
Everywhere the eye can see  
_ _Like a mist or like a cloud—_ ”

Her mind goes blank. She tries again.

“ _…Everywhere the eye can see_  
 _Like a mist or like a cloud—_ ”

Still nothing.

“ _Like a mist or like a cloud_ …darnit. DARN IT.” Asahina knuckles her head under the running water. Why can’t she even remember the next stupid line? Then from outside the bathroom, in a lower register, she hears:

“— _Sweet perfume upon the breeze_  
 _Let us go, let us go  
_ _See them bloom on high_ ”

She sticks her head out the door, eyes wide. Sakura is sitting at the foot of her bed, calm as you please, reading a book Naegi got out of the Monomono Machine.

“Thanks,” she says lamely.

“You are welcome,” says Sakura, and turns the page with a small smile on her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you might have guessed, Asahina is singing [Sakura Sakura. ](en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sakura_Sakura)


	11. Pink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aoi has complicated feelings about pink.

When she is very small, she has a cute pink hairclip. Her favourite. She wears it when she roughhouses with her brothers, and when she is punished for roughhousing, and made to sit quietly while the others go off and have fun. A good girl has to keep her clothes clean and her knees spotless, after all.

This is when Asahina Aoi starts hating pink.

She eschews many girly things after that: ribbons and dolls, makeup and staying still. She refuses, point blank, to be the girly girl, and runs in the opposite direction from every feminine thing she can.

Trouble is, when she thinks it might be a good idea to accept the fact that she can't run away from being a woman (those people feel wrong in their bodies, don't they, and while her body annoys her it is no traitor), she's run so far she can't see where to start over.

But there are girly girls, and stylish girls, and happy girls and sad girls and girls with muscles like small dolphins. Some like pink and some don't and they're all equally women, and while Asahina is never going to  _do_ pink, ever, she grows quite fond of it in the flush of a lover's cheek, the dusky rose of said lover's thin lips.


	12. Idol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has different idols.

"Hey, Sakura-chan, who taught you to fight?" Asahina's voice is muffled by the towel over her head, but two inquisitive eyes peer out from underneath her makeshift hood.

"My father, naturally," she responds. "The master of the Oogami clan."

The swimmer beams, the gleam of recalled memories in her eyes. "You must really respect him. He must be really strong."

"For the most part, we get along." With a faint smile, Sakura adds, "And yes, he is a powerful man. One of the two I hold great esteem for in this world."

"Will any of us get to meet him one day?"

Sakura blinks. Good god. Asahina is completely serious. "I...suppose that you might, one day," she says slowly. (She too, must believe this, and with all her heart.) "And you, Asahina? Who do you respect most in life?"

Asahina starts ticking off fingers. There's a lot of esteem to give. "My first swim coach, Nagata-sensei. I would never have won my first meet without her encouragement. My mom, of course, for getting us all in line. Ikebayashi-chan, at Donkin's. Oh, and you of course."

"They are all women."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess they are! Funny how that turned out, but they're all incredibly awesome. Awecredible? No, incrediawesome! Just like you."

Humanity has a strength all its own, thinks Sakura, and among women there is a strength different from men. She wonders if there's enough of that left in her to even tap into.

Asahina make her think there is.


	13. Kitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakura doesn't have a lot of time for pets. Until she enters high school, that is.

When she's about five or so, Sakura says in the slow and formal way she has grown up with: "I would like to have a kitten."  

"No," her mother says, setting down her chopsticks, and her father nods solemn agreement without setting down his chopsticks. "You're busy with your training, and you won't have time to take care of it." The woman's face softens just a little, seeing her daughter's large, innocent eyes go even larger, shining with disappointment. "It won't be fair to the little thing, either, if you don't have time for each other."

As much as she hates it, Sakura knows her mother speaks truly. So there is no cat in the Oogami household, but when she kicks the moxie out of a boy she finds tying firecrackers to a yowling stray's tail, they come to call her Ogre for the first time.

In the name of every helpless stray, the ones she feeds and the ones she doesn't get to, she wears her badge with pride. It is not yet anything but a curious nickname; it has not been wrapped around her like tiger-skin trousers, and it will not weigh so heavily upon her yet.

(In years to come, she will find a bond with something small and quick and graceful, rather un-catlike in her affections, but warm and fond of snuggling all the same. And they have plenty of time for each other.)


	14. Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's not exactly a mall in Hope's Peak, but they do have a capsule machine and Sakura has made her choice.

Two coins. No matter how many times she counts them, Sakura has only two Monobear medals to put into the machine before her. All the more reason for her to sit as she has for an hour now, studying her opponent with the greatest care. The red capsule sandwiched between two green ones and a blue--that is her target. There can be no mistakes.

She has considered the capsules inside as a whole, and as parts of a whole. The red capsule is the only one she can see that contains the giant floating donut--it is golden brown with swirls of icing in rainbow colours, pink and green and gold with chocolate sprinkles. Sakura would wonder how such a thing stays afloat while you're nibbling pieces out of it, but now is not the time for thought. Now is the time for action.

Sakura rolls her coin into the slot, takes hold of the lever and turns it with one sharp movement. The capsules shift and roll, and one rolls out of the slot at the bottom of the machine, the red of victory and war. Satisfied, she cracks it open.

It's empty.

Taking a deep breath and praying to gods she does not know, Sakura puts in the other coin and turns the lever.

* * *

"A talisman?"

"Of a martial god. See, here--" Sakura runs her hand across the embroidered letters. "Kashima Daimyoujin. For strength and protection."

Asahina's eyes sparkle with the joy she is so ready to express. "It's  _awesome._  Sakura-chan, thank you for thinking of me...I'm not not thankful, but you could make better use of this, surely!"

"You will need the strength of gods much more than I," she replies softly, patting her brown hair.


	15. Cooking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asahina makes donuts, and Sakura makes omelettes.

There's enough to cook up a real feast in the cafeteria kitchens. Meat, fish, vegetables, everything a growing student needs. Not that Asahina really cares. She's going to make donuts tonight or die trying.

Perhaps that's not the best turn of phrase, she thinks to herself.

Sakura is already aproned up and looking down upon her. These things must be done properly, after all. She has a kerchief tied awkwardly around her head; while it keeps her hair back, it is certainly not keeping it  _down._ "Asahina, you are sure you know how to make these donuts?" she asks dubiously.

"It's okay! I just need flour, and eggs, and water, and...guts!"

"I do not think guts will help in these matters..." All the same, Sakura breaks eggs, doles out vanilla essence and puts out the inevitable oil fire when it happens.

What comes out of the frying pan is...not fit to be called food, let alone donuts. Asahina looks incredibly disappointed. It's okay, Sakura wants to tell her, failure makes you stronger, but she says "I'll make eggs," instead. 

It turns out the Oogami clan has an incredible omelette recipe. Asahina cleans her plate and cheerfully asks for a demonstration. She cracks her egg one-handed on the very first try, and they eat their creations--plain, savoury, smothered in sprinkles--into the wee hours of the morning.

"I'll try donuts again next week," Asahina proclaims. Sakura freezes with her chopsticks halfway to her mouth.

But she's there with her next week anyway, tying the kerchief around her head and cautiously eyeing the fire extinguisher on the wall. 


	16. Butterfly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody knows where the butterfly came from. It's welcome company, nevertheless.

When Asahina shrieks and stabs her finger into the air, Sakura thinks the little one has finally, completely lost it. But so has she, apparently, because there's a butterfly, clear as day, fluttering dizzily around one of the library lights.

Up she jumps, arms outspread to catch the little thing. It only serves to send the insect into deeper panic, looping and diving through the air. "Leave it be," says Sakura. "The more you chase it, the further it will elude your grasp. Wait. And watch."[[MORE]]

Skeptically, Asahina slides back into her chair. The butterfly flutters here and there, little wings flashing like bits of sunshine. It alights, at last, on the table right between the girls. Sakura doesn't have to say  _told you so_ \--her gaze and the slight smirk express that clearly enough.

Asahina holds out her hand gingerly before the butterfly, cooing at it. "Nice butterfly. Come on. Come on, climb on my hand, come on—ohmigod Sakura-chan look look _look it's on my hand._ " She's doing her best to contain herself, though there are no librarians here and no Togami. Force of habit, perhaps. It's a fragile little thing, wings opening and closing like it's breathing in and out. They are orange, trimmed with black, and dotted with blue and purple.

The butterfly takes a few little pattering steps, and takes flight—straight into Sakura's hair, where it sits, confused. "Nice hairclip," says Asahina with a laugh.

It stays as they do their research, and when they leave Sakura perches it on the doorframe. Her large, powerful fingers work with the utmost gentleness around this new and strange companion.

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Butterfly," says Asahina, waving. Is it just her, or does the butterfly flap its wings once in response?

* * *

The next morning, they find the butterfly in front of the library door, its little legs tangled, the beautiful wings cut (not torn-- _cut_ ) and the pieces sprinkled like confetti around the corpse.

Asahina cries for nearly an hour, hiccuping with grief in Sakura's arms. She too, cannot look upon the scene for too long without rage in her heart: a winged beast, trapped, screaming without a voice, flapping up a storm.


	17. Pin-Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Spoilers for Sakura's freetime events) Asahina and Sakura have different tastes in pretty things.

The magazines in the library are a little out of date, but that's to be expected. Asahina is flipping through a sports publication she's 'borrowed', making appreciative cooing noises as she rolls around lazily on the bed. "Steven Misille is  _the best_ ," she sighs, colour high in her cheeks as she shows Sakura the double-page spread. There's a big picture of the Western swimmer bursting out of the water, his remarkably long arms spread wide, and his face a determined grimace. He's long and lean and well, it's a swimmer's physique rather different from her own.

Sakura has never considered herself a jealous girl. Not until now.

"You take pleasure in his appearance?" she asks. Much to her surprise, Asahina turns as red as her jacket and starts stammering.

"No! I...well...he did win the Olympics and everything...It's just...er,  _well_..." Sakura waits patiently, fighting to keep the confusion off her face. When her friend speaks next, her voice is a tiny squeak. "Sometimes you just want to look at pretty things, you know? Even though maybe you can't have them?"

Sakura smiles her small smile, calm and accepting. "This is not a bad thing."

"Do you have a type that you like?" Asahina asks. This is a difficult question when you've only loved one man in your entire life. What type IS Kenichiro? The manly type? The strong-and-silent type? No wait, that's probably  _her_. The big-haired type? The infuriating-rival-who-makes-her-have-no-idea-what-to-do-with-herself type?

And then, what type is Asahina? Does it even matter?

"I do not have a specific preference. Why do you ask?"

"Ah, well." Asahina rubs the back of her neck. "Um, can I tell you a secret?"

"I swear you my silence. Speak."

"The thing is...I'venevereverhadaboyfriend," she blurts out. "Um. Really, ever. Not even a crush or anything like that...I guess I don't know how to go about things? And I thought maybe, if Sakura-chan  _has_ someone important to them, I could ask you for advice."

Sakura finds this...well, improbable is a  _very_ mild way to put it. She comes to sit beside her friend, putting one hand under her chin very gently. "You are a beautiful young woman, Asahina. And your strength is beyond adequate. Any man who cannot see that...or is intimidated by that...is not worthy of your attention." Should she--can she trust her friend with this knowledge?

"Sakura-chan? Your face has gone all funny, are you all right?"

 _Yes,_  she decides."Asahina, there  _is_  something I would speak to you about also. No, someone...the man who is stronger than I. It is right, I think, that you know."

Asahina takes her hand, folding her legs under her like they have all the time in the world. And Sakura knows, the way she knows how to throw a punch and run and defend all that is dear to her, that she has nothing to fear. Certainly not a piece of glossy paper in a magazine.


	18. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakura sees red. A lot of it.

Sakura has seen open fractures; feet and fingers turned in directions they were not naturally meant to turn in; a man's guts avulsed, the floorboards awash in scarlet. None of these sights have made her feel sick the way that deep scratch in Asahina’s right shoulder does, livid against her smooth skin.

"I'm fine," says Asahina, though her voice wavers with unshed tears. She's still shaken by Fukawa...no, Syo's attack. "Really, Sakura-chan, I am. Don't worry."

"This is not right. It is  **not**." She's gritting her teeth so hard her jaw aches. Yelling is a very attractive option right now, but she doesn't have the time to spare. Neither does she want to disturb Asahina further. She will not let her friends be placed in danger on her account--and yes, they  _are_  her friends, even if maybe one-and-a-half people care to acknowledge that right then. Her goal is clear: Monobear must be thwarted.

And she thinks she knows just how to do it.

"Sakura-chan--hey, say something, please. You're starting to scare me." Asahina tugs at her tie, begging attention. She slips her hand below her slashed jacket, ghosting her fingers over the injury.

"I will not let this wound be in vain, Asahina." The vow is as sure as any covenant sealed with blood.

That's when Asahina reaches up, steadying Sakura's jaw with both her hands, and kisses her full on the lips. Everything goes red--red with blood, and heat, and passion. Sakura finds herself kissing back, dropping to her knees and embracing Asahina. Small hands close desperately on her hair and pull. When they finally break apart, she's glad they're behind a closed door and no other will see their cheeks flushed in this discovery of each other.

"There are things I must still do," she stammers once thoughts flow back into the white space of her brain. Great.  _Smooth._ But Asahina just nods, tidying back a lock of hair that has worked loose.

"Come back, okay?" she says, and this time she  _is_ crying. "Don't do anything dangerous. I'll be all right if you just come back."

Sakura smiles faintly. Red is courage and danger and heat and blood and passion, and the jacket of a girl who has given her trust without hesitation. It will not be the last time Sakura lies, and it hurts that she must still deceive Asahina. But she nods.

"I will do all I can to protect everyone, Asahina. And you." And that is a bloody truth.


	19. Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Asahina's happy, she dances.

When Asahina is happy--really, really happy--she twirls in place, her ponytail swinging free and her hands pressed to her chin. It happens a lot: at the sight of the pool free of anyone to disturb her swim (read:  _all the time_ ), at the smell of ramen cooking, even sometimes when she's just with Sakura. It is confusing, a nice kind of confusing, but still.

"It's--how do I say it?" she muses when questioned about her behaviour. "Like I'm so happy my insides can't stay still. I  _have_ to move." She's beautiful when she dances, graceful and fluid, and she spins like a top--right into Sakura's arms.

Giggling, Asahina coaxes her friend to her feet, leading her about the floor with mock solemnness, like the dorm is their private ballroom. Sakura tries to take initiative a few times, and they sway across the floor in a gentle give-and-take. The harsh fluorescent lights fall away; the smell of stale, recycled air falls away; Hope's Peak itself falls away and there are just two young women moving to the same rhythm.

"Ah," says Sakura at last. "This is like the footwork for  _Ogre Hunts the Whale."_

"Sorry?"

"No, nothing." They dance on.


	20. Hairclip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakura's hair is getting in the way.

Sakura looks at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Squints. Frowns. She  _really_  needs a haircut _._

 _"_ Trouble?" Asahina tips her head inquisitively in her direction. Her breath is minty-fresh from a fresh toothbrushing.

"My hair is becoming unkempt," she grumbles.  _More than usual?_ Asahina thinks, but holds her tongue. There's a certain wild charm to the way Sakura's hair refuses to be tamed by brushes alone.

"Want a hairclip? Here, let me put it up for you." Asahina apparently keeps some spare metal grips with her, and sets to work, concentrating as she smooths the hair back from Sakura's face.

It is strange to have someone do this sort of thing for her. Nobody has given the breath of a thought to coddling the Oogami girl for years. It's not unpleasant, though, and she does let Asahina do her work, deft fingers running through her hair, brushing against her temples. There's no fear in her touch, no flinching from an imagined threat.

That is  _definitely_ not unpleasant.

The hairclips, however, keep on coming. And coming. When Asahina steps back with a proud "ta-dah!" her hair is covered in all sorts of plastic woodland creatures. She counts at least two kittens, five rabbits, and three puppies hiding in her locks, like a menagerie in winter.

"Beautiful! What do you think?" Asahina beams.

Sakura smiles into her chest, hiding her laughter. "You are  _definitely_  not allowed to braid my hair now."

" _Spoilspooooort!_ "

(Despite this, the hairclips stay until Night Time. None of the other students  _dream_  of saying anything about them.)


	21. Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When there are no stars, one improvises.

It's too quiet for Sakura to sleep. Back at home there was always some gentle, assuring background noise: the creak of branches in the wind, the sound of someone training late at night, the voices of her parents blurred by distance and walls. And a lamp is always burning, somewhere. Here in Hope's Peak there's nothing but darkness and pin-drop silence.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Asahina whispers.

"Nothing in particular," she whispers back. Sakura shifts her arm so that Asahina can snuggle up against her side in bed. "You should rest. Tomorrow will require our full concentration on the investigation, I'm sure."

"So should you. Count sheep, maybe?"

"At home I would...count the stars," she admits sheepishly. But here there are none to be seen. No light shines out of this darkness.

"Maybe if we pretend?"

"Pretend."

"Pretend." Asahina raises her hands to her face. "Sakura-chan, I can see the North Star up there!"

Humouring her, Sakura closes her eyes, drawing on memories of nights spent looking out windows or up at a summer's entire boundless sky. "...Orion," she says, the first constellation that comes to mind.

"There's the Little Bear!"

"I see the Pleiades." It's not entirely a lie at this point.

The stars of their imagination wrap around them like a blanket, and Asahina's eyes are blue giants peeping through space and Sakura's hair is the whole Milky Way. They hold hands and curl against each other, drifting into a dream lit all around with a thousand points of light.


	22. Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you can forget how to cry, you can also remember again.

When she's seven, her grandmother dies: the one who oh-so-fondly calls her Sakura- _chan_  and lets her have candy before dinner, whose comfortable broad lap she sleeps on when Father and Mother have business to attend to or tournaments to oversee. She gets older and older and smaller and smaller, and one night she goes to sleep and doesn't wake up.

At the funeral Sakura's quiet sniffing is the only sound beneath the drone of sutras, and her father sternly tells her not to cry--that she has to be strong and not cry. So she swallows her tears, slick raw things diverted into her throat, and nods.

When she's eleven, another student pushes her down in spite, and she scrapes her legs from shin to thigh on the gravel. Amazing how wounds so shallow can hurt so much, and she has to choke back a gasp before it all starts, water pooling at the corners of her eyes.

At the end of it all her eyes are red and her footwraps are red too, but there is pride in her eyes as she stands over the snivelling challenger. Her mother pales. Her father nods approval.

When she's fourteen, at the end of a very maudlin movie involving a blind fox, she sits in the cinema, shaking like a leaf. As she replays the worst scenes in her mind--the boy searching for his father in the rain, the little fox's corpse covered in wildflowers--her heart can find no release from the weight that oppresses it. There is a huge and hollow emptiness within her, and Oogami Sakura realises with a mix of fear and resignation that she has forgotten how to cry.

( _Don't cry. You must be strong. Don't cry._ )

When she is fifteen she meets a girl who laughs and cries and  _expresses_ with unbelievable gusto. And she's the strongest person Sakura knows  _because_ she knows when to cry.

When she is fifteen (or so she thinks) the world is pulled out from under her feet. She keeps her distance from everyone else, if only to make them more comfortable. At the end of the day, she trudges back to her room. Suddenly it's so cold.

Asahina's waiting in front of the door, and she bounds to her feet, stiff-legged, trembling, doing her best to look her in the eye. She clearly has something to say, though she's stammering like something has broken beneath her tongue.

"Sakura-chan, I believe in you," she says at last, but her voice breaks and she starts to sob with the injustice of it all.

 _I don't deserve your sorrow. You're stronger than that._ Water pools at the corners of Sakura's eyes, too. This time she lets it fall.


	23. Shoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asahina dreams of running.

Aoi dreams. She's waiting at a starting line, fingers just touching the warm track. Her shoes are laced tight, gripping her feet like a second skin. She sets her teeth, focusing her gaze straight ahead. Every fibre of her is poised to run, and the anticipation, the tension of every runner casting her competitors glances no one will ever admit to, is almost like a drug. If she's not careful, she could very well miss the starting—

_Bang.  
_

No more time. She throws herself forward, legs swallowing the ground, her arms pumping. It's a clean start, and for now that's all that matters. All she has to do now is run, and pass, and pass the finish line...

Except there's no finish line. The runners continue their relentless circuit with no sign of flagging--the Mitakihara girl she ran against last year isn't even breaking a sweat. And with every footstep, every time her shoes hit the track, she feels something missing. The wind whistles in her ears and the crowd is a distant roar.

Something is missing. Something, something--and in that second of indecision someone laps her. Shit. Not fatal in the long run, but irritating. Asahina puts on a petulant burst of speed and evens the score. The competitor doesn't flinch.  _Where are they running? Why?_

"Asahina! The finish line!" Suddenly she hears a roar, the voice of a lion among women. And there, one face looms clear in the cheering crowd: tanned and scarred, her blue eyes wide and piercing.

She turns her attention back to the track and there it is, the absolution of the white tape. Asahina sucks in a breath, smiles a little and lets loose. She fairly  _flies_  past everyone, every single one, and crosses the finishing line with arms flung high.

The crowd erupts. Spectators pour onto the field. Sakura makes her way to Asahina and passes her a water bottle. She watches her drink most of it and dash the rest over her head, never mind the wet shirt. "It was a good race you ran."

"Are you kidding? It was  _great_!" she gasps, eyes bright. "Sakura-chan came to support me!"  _So I ran for you._ Something is  _still_  missing."Hey, have you seen my family?"

The larger girl's brow crumbles in a frown. "Asahina, they are not here."

Ah.

That was what she had felt: the absence of her family's cheering. Between all five of them, they never missed a race or a meet...but then, there was the video, and the despair, and Monobear and...

...Aoi wakes abruptly into a colder world. Sakura stirs in her sleep next to her. She nudges her gently with her unshod feet, toes tickling the inside of one calf.  _One foot in front of the other, and again,_ she thinks, breathing as deeply and evenly as she can.  _Just like running. Just like running._


	24. Makeup

The little box on the dressing table is filled with strange powders and creams, and Aoi stares quizzically up at her mother. "You put all of this on your face?"

"Oh, only sometimes, Aoi."

"What for, mama?"

"To look pretty."

"Mama is already pretty," she says with the unshakeable certainty of a five-year-old.

"Oh, aren't you a dear," her mother laughs in a way that means she doesn't believe her at all. "Well, sometimes a girl needs a little help."

But Asahina Aoi never does become comfortable with makeup. Eyeliner runs; foundation streaks. Her glow is that of sun and sweat and the colour high in her cheeks is nothing but rude health. Still, looking at the pretty girls all around her, she does wonder.

"Maybe I should ask Kirigiri-chan if she can recommend anything for my face?" she muses, pinching her cheeks in the mirror. She thinks about the mysterious girl, her face always calm, always perfect. Like a porcelain mask.

Sakura overhears her. "Asahina, there is nothing wrong about your face. You are perfectly beautiful as you are," she says firmly. "But if Kirigiri scorns your request...I will have words with her."

 _Sometimes,_  she thinks as she hugs Sakura and presses her cheek to hers,  _a girl doesn't need any help at all._


	25. Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakura allows herself one last bit of sweetness.

Asahina's voice cracks in horror. "Sakura-chan, you're bleeding!"

"I will be all right," she says. Lying is becoming quite the bad habit with her. What would her father say? "Asahina, would you get me some protein? From the lab." The runner nods, hands fluttering before her chest nervously, and she dashes off down the hallway. That should buy her enough time.

Sakura drags an extra chair to the door, trying to gauge the damage she's taken already. The head wounds are bleeding more than she'd thought, and the world is blurry before her. She licks her lips and tastes iron. There will be a death tonight, all right...but she will suffer no harm to her friends. None.

 _I am sorry, Asahina. But if I had told you..._  Sakura smiles faintly to herself, jamming the chair tight under the knob.  _You would have tried to stop me. And we would be right back where we began._

She sits back down on her chair, heart beating fast although she knows exactly what's to come. The brown glass bottle is slippery in her bloodstained hands and she nearly drops it as she twists the cap off. The poison tastes  _disgusting,_ but she chokes all of it down. She has a few more minutes at most.

Will they be able to find the truth? They are not unintelligent. Asahina is not unintelligent. Surely, surely they will see before it is too late.

Sakura reaches into her pocket, feeling for something small and hard. It's Asahina's candy: the same that she offered to Hagakure, and the same that she has kept back for herself—as insurance, if she were feeling generous, and childish comfort if she were not. Her fingers are already growing cold and numb, but she unwraps the little treat and pops it into her mouth. One last selfishness, then.

The bitter and the sweet mingle in the best way as it goes down. She closes her eyes with the taste of candy still lingering faintly on her lips, below the blood and the end she has chosen.


	26. Lover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To love is a surprise. To love again is a challenge on its own.

When you are Oogami Sakura, after a certain point in your life you know you are not meant for love. The gods have granted you a strong body, a fighter's pride and a warrior's constitution, and a heart too large and fragile in the wrong places for your own good. You are so aware of this it is almost painful. Truth hurts like that.

Romance is for other people; people with less important promises to keep. You tell yourself this as you enter Hope's Peak Academy, red tie knotted smartly around your neck, shoes white, skirt ironed to knife-crease perfection.

Love finds you anyway in the form of a girl not quite half your size. She waves at you like a tiny windmill outside of the gymnasium on your first day. You worry she will give herself diabetes with all those donuts. She gives you her heart, that fierce and fiery object, without any hesitation at all--steals your affection in degrees. She is unafraid and cheerful and frank and an incredible friend.

You still have important promises to keep. But you're keeping them for  _her_ now, too. You are unsure when this happened; it feels right nevertheless. The girl shines like the morning sun, and the light of her smile is the warmest thing in a world that turns colder by the day.

You share secrets and confessions and blueberry perfume, stolen chaste kisses behind the cafeteria and in the halls and everywhere else. Nobody messes with her when you're around. Nobody messes with  _you_ when she's there, either.

The gods have granted you a strong body, a fighter's pride and a warrior's constitution, and a heart large enough to let someone else in at last. You have taken them all and made them undefeatable. And love, different but not  _less,_  fills the spaces in between.

* * *

The lights are out. They're both squashed into the same bed (Asahina's) and bundled up in extra covers (Sakura's). It's nice.

"Sakura-chan, do you have someone you like?" Asahina mumbles sleepily, flapping her hands against her chest.

"Yes. And she should stop poking me in the bosom and go to sleep."

She giggles and rests her head against her chest, sighing contentedly. The rest of the night is silence, and warmth fills the spaces in between.


	27. Hollyhocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aoi has to grow into her name a little.

“Judging by your name, your parents must have expected a swimmer.”

“Huh? Oh! Oh no, it’s actually not  _that_ Aoi.” Asahina pulls her student ID card out of her pocket and shows it to Sakura. It’s a different character, nothing to do with blue or water. “It’s the  _aoi_ that’s a plant, you know, the one in the Tokugawa crest?”

“The triple hollyhock,” Sakura muses. “Very noble.”

“Oh, pff.” Asahina expels a breath with an amused pout. “I am, like, the  _least_ noble person you will ever meet.”

“I would not be so certain of that.” Sakura’s gaze is thoughtful, piercing, and makes her heart go pitter-pat in interesting ways. “Nobility is not an outward facade. It is inner truth, something one is born with. Your namesake blooms in the spring rain, unbowed. Do not doubt your strength. Or, for that matter, your will to survive.”

“People do terrible things to survive, Sakura-chan,” mumbles Asahina. The most recent murder is still fresh in her mind.

“True.” She does not blink. “These same people also go to great lengths to protect the people they love. Some call it weakness. Some may yet call this strength. But to stand tall against the wrongs of the world?” Sakura raises one hand to her chest. “There is part of your nobility.”

Asahina blushes and starts talking overly loud about donut cravings instead, but there is no hiding the shy flush of her cheeks or the touched look in her eye. She is a flower, tiny but tall in the face of the storm, and while Sakura will never see her in full bloom, she dreams of a day when the clouds will part and her friend will be standing there, unscathed, face turned to the light in joy.


	28. Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are not so different, Asahina Aoi and Oogami Sakura. Not enough to matter.

Asahina wonders sometimes about whether any of the fight is worth it. Whether there’s still a world out there to return to. Whether they will all die at each other’s hands as Monobear giggles over their respective demises.

And then Sakura will float into her mind’s eye. Something about contemplating the slope of her shoulder, or the grace of her stride, or even the strength of her gaze, makes her heart sprint out of time. And sometimes Sakura will look at her, and flush, and she knows she thinks the same.

They are both different in many ways, but they have also found each other’s companionship in a dark and terrible place; given the other strength and hope and certainty, and a reason to keep moving forward. They make the other’s heart race. That cannot be wrong, she decides. It can never be.

“Asahina.” Sakura sees the look on her face and turns to her, gently resting one hand beneath her jaw. Her pulse is a steady beat against her skin. “Does something trouble you?”

“No, Sakura-chan,” she says with an honest smile, curling her little fingers around her friend’s broad ones and squeezing. “Not a thing.”

Between both of them, one heart beats on, undying.


End file.
